Winter's Best Kept Secret

“WINTER’S BEST KEPT SECRET”

BY

A. CASAGRANDI

The area around Weston Vermont is charming year around. The area features quaint country stores and cafes. The village of Weston captures a snowy persona, once winter arrives.

The snow is a big element in Weston, especially during the holiday season. However, it is the town’s community projects that bring folks together as a troupe of happy New Englanders. Center Street stays winterized with snow mixed with decorations until after Valentine’s Day. Weston may be the only New England town with a sign welcoming winter.

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Emily moved to Vermont, from Pittsfield Mass after inheriting a New England-style bungalow, from her grandparents. It was not a large house, and felt to Emily, more like an apartment. It had two bedrooms, two baths, and a living room with a patio overlooking a garden, separated by double French doors. Her favorite room was the kitchen. She enjoyed cooking, even though she only cooked for herself.

It had been snowing all morning and the forecast was to continue well into the day. Winter in Vermont, meant snow – lots of snow.

Sipping a cup of hot cocoa, Emily watched the large flakes drop wildly shaped crystals over her summer perennial garden. It is amazing how a blanket of snow hides months of gardening in just a few hours. She liked the snow but hated the ice and wind.

“Yuck, “Welcome Winter,” who ever thought of something as stupid as that?” she mumbled to himself. She was happy for the skiers, and that was about it.

Her phone, tucked in her shirt pocket, rang. “Ugh, now what,” she thought. She took another sip of cocoa and set the cup down on the floor, getting it out of the way.

“Hey there gorgeous, what’s happening? This is a voice from your past.”

“Tom Canfield!”

“How’d you know that? I’m not using my phone, and there is no caller ID.”

“I recognized your voice. I know it’s been a long time, but I don’t forget voices, you talk kind of weird anyway.”

“I guess then, that would work. I have been meaning to give you a ring.”

“Why’s that? I heard that you were married.”

“Divorced and freelancing about looking up old chums, maybe sparking some interest here and there.”

“Not interested.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about that.”

“A-huh, well, I can’t say it either,” she replied.

I have to clean my driveway before it gets any deeper. If I cannot get the snow blower going, I will shovel, it’s my winter exercise,” admitted Emily. “I’m not that helpless, you know – Okay, I’m forty-two, going on thirty.”

“I’ll come by and clean it. I am not that far from you. I rent a place on Huckleberry Lane four blocks from you on Sharon Drive. Yep, I arrived here before Thanksgiving.

”Hey, are you married or anything?” Tom asked.

“Not today.”

“Very funny!”

Emily tucked her flannel shirt into her jeans and changed shoes. She dumped the remaining hot cocoa down the drain and put the rinsed cup in the sink. She remembered that Tom was a coffee drinker and liked percolated coffee and not the solo stuff, that he called crap. The coffee pot had just begun to perk when a dark grey pickup pulled in off the street and drove to the side of Emily’s driveway. It was Tom.

The truck had a plow attached, and Tom began pushing the snow out of the way creating snowbanks off to the side. What he accomplished in ten minutes would have taken Emily an hour, if not longer. The snow was still coming down but cleaning it once meant less to handle when it finally stopped.

Tom hopped out of the truck, stamped his feet on the ground, and walked to the kitchen door, just as Emily was opening it.

When the kitchen door closed, Emily reached to shake hands. However, Tom grabbed her for an old-fashioned hug. They were dearly departed friends finding one another after all these years, so a hug seemed appropriate. The last time they were together was at college in Boston. They were romantics, who met at Cape Cod and swore to love each other, but typical among Boston’s young people; moving up the ladder, was always a consideration, and romance didn’t last long. That had to be twenty or more years ago, and the ladder was long gone.

Both people had changed over the last twenty-two years and it was for the better. Believe me; it was definitely for the better.

The college boy charm was gone from Tom, and in its place stood a man facing Emily simply as a person and not a haughty-taught New England dude. This is what makes the story interesting.

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Emily poured two cups of coffee and took them into the living room to sit by the fire. A long couch faced the fireplace. It was one of Emily’s special winter places in the house. She would lie on the sofa, for hours looking at the flames, remembering her trendy past. It is not that she was uppity, as a student, but she was popular on campus. Tom was similar when it came to being popular. He dated girls mainly to be big men on campus, leaving Emily alone. Nevertheless, they remained remarkable friends.

They sat together on the sofa as the fire roared in the fireplace and the snow continued to fall. Already, the driveway was covered in white again where Tom had just plowed.

“Winter in Vermont. – This is what you get living near the Green Mountains,” said Emily.

“Oh, winter is first-rate, and keeps you active. Although, I wouldn’t mind a little surf and sun about now either,” Tom added.

“Remember the summer we spent at the Cape?” he continued, twitching his head just a little. “Gosh, you were something!”

“Oh yes, I do remember that. There was entertainment, parties, sunning on the sand, (but the water was cold) skimpy shorts, and falling off the curb in Dennis.” We were both college students from Boston, and met during the afternoon buffet at the Beach House Cafe.”

“We spent the next few days hanging out together swimming and dancing at night. I have to admit, it was romance at first sight. I mistakenly called it ‘love,’ but we were young and based everything on emotion.” Tom confessed.

“I know how we could have been so silly?” added Emily who remembered the good times. “Hah, how crazy is that?”

“You can say that again!”

Tom, after leaving the Cape that summer, returned to Boston obsessed with his good looks. Now, twenty years later, he was back. Emily had her own beliefs, “You have to know when to walk away, know when to run.” Thank you, Kenny Rogers.

Aside from all the nonsense, they were still friends. Emily was getting anxious sitting next to Tom, remembering how he was when they dated many years ago. He looked better to her now, after maturing like fine wine. However, looking was all she did. Thinking – well, that was something else. The way Tom stared and ran his little finger over Emily’s hand suggested that inside they were both the same. Tom never hated anything he simply made one mistake after another. Getting married to the wrong person was the big one.

“So what do you think?” asked Tom.”

“About what?”

“WINTER!” – “THE FESTIVAL.”

The New England festival was not about to start for another few days plenty of time to remove snow and clear highways in and around town. Vermonters have been doing this for years and knew exactly how to handle every weather situation that arrived.

In the center of town, the Vermont winter tree, garnished with hundreds of colored lights, ornaments, loads of pinecones, and red berries, are sure sign of the winter season.

“Let’s spend Christmas together,” suggested Tom, trying to ignite a forgotten friendship.

“I’m waiting for the snow to stop so I can buy a Christmas tree. John Snyder, from SNYDER’S’ TREE FARM, brings fresh-cut trees into town every December for folks to buy locally, said Emily, ignoring Tom’s question.

“What do you think of my idea about spending Christmas together?” repeated Tom.

“Why are you here?”

“I work for Hotels of America. My job is to train people for managerial positions. So I am here in Weston as an instructor.”

“That’s nice. I work from home. I write computer programs for different companies based on their needs. I turned the spare bedroom into an office, besides, who needs extra bedrooms, when you never get any company.”

“Gosh, where would I sleep if I get snowed in, or perhaps invited?”

“You won’t get invited,” replied Emily twitching, as if to say – “so there!”

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The snow was active, for the longest time, like a teenager with daddy’s credit card, deeper and higher everything was piling up. However, it was beginning to taper, and that meant the worst was over for now.

“Let’s go to town and see what kind of trees John Snyder brought to Center Square for sale. We can take the truck and keep your car tucked away nice and dry in the garage. Besides, with a pick-up, it is easy to transport. However, it’s only a suggestion, if you want to do it.”

“I like the idea, also picking out the tree together, isn’t a bad idea either.”

“I’m not quite following…”

“You said, “Let’s spend Christmas together, and I‘m agreeing with you. After all, we do have some history together.”

Tom mentally kicked himself a hundred times over the years, for not staying with her when things were going well. He was not dumb and realized some doors may never open again, but he was willing to knock a few times to see what might happen.

So far – was NOT so good. Emily stood up saying, “Let’s get going now that the snow has almost stopped. When in town, I will spring for lunch, and you do the driving. Also, I owe you for plowing the driveway.”

“I am going to plow, the second time too, and you owe me nothing, don’t be ridiculous!”

“I like being ridiculous,” replied Emily grinning and feeling exceedingly comfortable around her former boyfriend, a star on the basketball court. Lord, she could never forget looking at that.

***********

The driveway was snowy, with ice crystals forming on top. It was now raining and freezing as it hit the ground. When the two of them came out of the house, Tommy slipped and fell bringing Emily down on top of him. They lay in the snow with their eyes locked on one another, saying nothing – just staring.

Emily kissed him, and when she started to lift away, Tommy pulled her back, so they could keep kissing. Two grown people in their forties, lying in the snow kissing like teenagers, how crazy can one get. However, don’t laugh it was beautiful.

Tom backed his truck into the street and they were on their way to town. It felt nice, to be with him once again.

She remembered traveling along the Cape, past all the New England tourist towns. She remembered something good about all of them. The food, the people, and the smell of ocean air remained lodged in her memory. Watching him drive sitting comfortably in his truck, brought much of that back. It was years ago, but felt more like yesterday – OK, last week.

They were older, of course, and that made a difference. The college days were gone, the passing years had seen to that. However, two solid mature people together were still a team. They reconnected because a snowstorm ordered it.

“Lunch first or tree first?” asked Tom, driving slowly along the street, busy with children stomping through the snow, hanging on to their mother’s hand.

“How hungry are you?” asked Emily.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Stop!”

“Okay, stopping is a good idea,” he mumbled, squeezing Emily’s hand.

“Carrie’s Café, three doors down, let’s stop there. She has wonderful soup, salads, and sandwiches at lunchtime. OH, unless you would rather go someplace else.”

“You are being terribly nice getting my opinion on everything we are doing today. Any reason for that?” asked Tom, with a sly grin.

“No”

“Carrie’s café sounds perfect then.”

During lunch, they talked about some events they went through (good and bad) over the lost years they spent away from each other. The conversation, however, seemed to find a way back to romance, no matter how they tried to avoid it. They were both good-looking people. This was not important, for a friendship, but it was there, and you can’t change the obvious.

Emily was right; the soup (zucchini /cheddar cheese with port wine) was exceptional on a cold winter day. For dessert, they each choose warm apple-cranberry pie topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Then, off to find Emily a Christmas tree.

The lot was busy and John Snyder had his two boys selling trees. The one boy, Chris, knew Emily from a computer class she taught at the high school.

Tom was surprised at how quickly she picked out a tree. She didn’t seem fussy at all. Other folks, (mostly women) were checking tree after tree, having the boys shake the snow from the branches.

The second tree that Emily looked at, (snow and all) she bought. Chris Snyder tossed it in the back of the pickup and they were on their way back to Sharon Drive and the comfort of the fireplace, a couple of pillows, and a glass coffee pot.

Tom put the tree into the garage so it could drip dry and get the stand attached before bringing it into the house. He plowed the driveway and shoveled the sidewalk. They were opening a new window, even though it was tough to admit.

Emily, a prom queen, had dated a few boys in college and understood how their minds worked. She was good at reading people. Now, here was Tom Canfield again, and what appeared simple, was not easy. He was a regular sweetheart, not perfect in every way, but still nice. They sat together with Tom needing to rest from shoveling snow. Somehow, with the magic from “yesterday,” Emily cuddled in Tom’s arms, and once again, it felt like Cape Cod.

There is no mistaking that togetherness can lead to romance. People are crafty when their cards are played right.

There were moments when Emily saw Tom as a little boy. She cuddled him, loved him, and they came together as friends, putting their senior years to good use. Their lives changed, as did the times, conversely their togetherness remained strong. Tom’s first mistake, an error in judgment, he never repeated.

He married Emily being where he needed to be. However, they delayed marriage for a while to determine if the move was good, or not so good. However, there was nothing left to determine, it was just that simple.

End

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